


Wedding Dress

by snarkyscorp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breathplay, Corsetry, F/F, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-08
Updated: 2009-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/pseuds/snarkyscorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa Malfoy stood like a doll at the threshold of the room, her long blond hair let loose in ringlets today, pink lips pursed to hide a grin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Dress

**Author's Note:**

> I named Blaise's mother "Agnese" because I thought it suited her and for no other true reason than it worked at the time. Liberties taken with her of course, but I kept to canon fact as much as possible.

Agnese Zabini clapped her hands. Two house-elves scattered at her feet, scrambling to get her laced into her dress. She had gained several pounds in the years since the war, but she would be maddened if she was unable to fit into the simple, white gown with lace hugging the bodice.

"Tighter," she snapped.

"Yes, tighter, of course!" one house-elf squeaked, fighting with the corset's string to lace her up. The little creature had to climb atop a nearby chaise to reach the small of her back.

A long, dull bell sounded three times, and Agnese glanced towards the entrance to the boudoir. A tight smile itched at the corners of her fine, crimson lips, and she smacked the house-elves away with a swat of well-manicured fingertips.

"Go tend to the door," she cooed, almost lovingly. "And leave me in peace."

The house-elves were gone before she turned to face the full-length mirror. Elegantly squeezed into the soft lace and fluid silk of the gown, Agnese admired herself. One dark hand lifted to trace the swell of her breasts—fastened in so tightly it was somewhat hard to breathe—while the other moved down over the curve of her wide hips. She cringed at the sight of a wrinkle that showed where she had gained her weight and made a silent vow to stop accepting gifts from potential suitors; clearly, the chocolate and champagne diet was not for her. At least not always.

A second face appeared in the mirror's reflection, peeking into the room from the doorway. The face was pale, puckered, and upturned in the most beautiful ways. Narcissa Malfoy stood like a doll at the threshold of the room, her long blond hair let loose in ringlets today, pink lips pursed to hide a grin.

"I thought it was your son's wedding, not yours," Narcissa said coolly, covering her lips to further hide the sneer. "You look ridiculous, Agnese; what on earth are you doing? I do hope you aren't planning another wedding of your own—what sort of man wants to be your eighth unfortunate accident?"

Agnese was both appalled and amused. She settled on an expression that gave nothing away and merely beckoned Narcissa in. "Close the door, Cissy darling, and come and finish lacing me in."

Narcissa nodded, settling her fine fur cloak and effects on the desk. The door was closed and locked, and Narcissa moved silently to her task, cold fingers brushing Agnese's dark skin before they gripped the strings of the corset and gave a yank.

Agnese sucked in a breath and wavered under Narcissa's strength. "How is Lucius?"

Narcissa pulled so tight Agnese thought her ribs might crack. But her whisper barely gave any agitation or discomfort away. "Alive," Narcissa said. "And Blaise?"

"Out on a bachelor's romp in Paris," Agnese said dully. "No doubt ruining his perfect marriage by impregnating whores. And Draco?"

"Happy in his own marriage and expecting a child in the coming months."

Agnese scoffed. "Draco Malfoy, a father." She turned sharply and caught Narcissa's hands. "How old does that make us, my darling?" With her free hand, she traced Narcissa's sharp jawline, down the fragile column of her white neck.

"Old enough to know better, Agnese," Narcissa said sharply, pulling herself away. "On your knees. Let's do this properly."

With some trepidation, Agnese dropped to her knees and braced her hands on the chaise. She knew what was coming, how it would feel against her flesh, and yet it still caught her off guard as Narcissa's heel pressed into her spine, the toe of her expensive, designer shoes digging into her back. Narcissa grabbed the laces again, with both hands, and used her foot as added leverage to yank and pull and tighten, until Agnese was sobbing quietly in pain and exhaustion.

"Enough!" she whispered, faintly blue at the mouth.

But Narcissa pulled tighter. Agnese felt the familiar warmth spreading down between her legs. They both knew how easy it was for her to get off on the pain, the severity of Narcissa's sharp tugs. If it wasn't the lace of a bodice, it was a ribbon around her neck or a balled-up stocking in her mouth; their little dalliances were never the same twice, but Narcissa always remained poised and pristine, while Agnese came undone.

"Please, that's enough," Agnese called again, her body unbearably close to climax.

Narcissa let go and removed her foot. She offered a hand to help Agnese up. Wavering, Agnese fell into Narcissa's arms and began to litter her mouth with wordless kisses. Narcissa was bitter and cold against her, but her mouth gave way and her perfect lips parted slowly. When Agnese had had her fill, she collapsed onto the chaise, breathing sharply. Narcissa bent over her, petting the cleavage that nearly spilled out of the gown.

"Is this your wedding dress, Agnese?"

Agnese laughed breathlessly. "Oh, of course not. I burned all of mine. This is Maria's."

"Blaise's fiancé?" Narcissa asked, smirking. "You are a tart, my darling. We'd better get it off your lovely body, before you soil it."

Heat rose into Agnese's cheeks. "What makes you think—"

But Narcissa's fingers were already underneath the dress, probing.

"I can't breathe!" Agnese demanded pitifully, arching into Narcissa.

"This won't take but a minute," Narcissa said, kissing Agnese's cheek with a sneer that spoke volumes.


End file.
